tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-42209039311502748852018-10-07T03:55:36.660-07:00On My Journey HomeHannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16874504214946352774noreply@blogger.comBlogger121125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4220903931150274885.post-92060876123581905302018-01-06T00:29:00.003-08:002018-01-06T00:29:44.948-08:00In a Slum<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.facebook.com/jwoodjfasia/videos/vb.1475043727/10214927873658406/?type=3" target="_blank"><img border="0" data-original-height="561" data-original-width="775" height="288" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QzCB90agiTA/WlCHZjgJkWI/AAAAAAAAHlw/x8wvIeN9OZY4yZgsXkdTYHM7L7NRNr3zQCLcBGAs/s400/Screen%2BShot%2B2018-01-06%2Bat%2B3.21.19%2BPM.png" width="400" /></a></div><span style="font-family: &quot;helveticaneue&quot;; font-size: 12px;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: &quot;helveticaneue&quot;; font-size: 12px;">This girl. She’s lived in a slum all her life. Most other people there don’t think of it that way because that’s all they’ve known. She’s not satisfied. There’s a better place she could be.&nbsp;</span><br /><div style="font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-size: 12px;"><br /></div><div style="font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-size: 12px;">You and I. We’ve lived in a slum all our lives. Some of us might not think of it that way because this is all we've known. We don’t need to be satisfied. There’s a better place we could be.&nbsp;</div><div style="font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-size: 12px;"><br /></div><div style="font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-size: 12px;"><i>Are we even trying to get there?</i></div><div style="font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-size: 12px;"><br /></div><div style="font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-size: 12px;"><b><i>Heaven is waiting.</i></b></div><div style="font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-size: 12px;"><b><i><br /></i></b></div><div style="font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-size: 12px;"><br /></div><div style="font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-size: 12px;"><br /></div><div style="font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-size: 12px;"><br /></div><div style="font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-size: 12px;"><br /></div><div style="font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-size: 12px;"><br /></div><div style="font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-size: 12px; text-align: right;">(Click on the picture to go to the video about her.)</div>Hannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16874504214946352774noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4220903931150274885.post-18389600113164456462016-11-07T22:33:00.002-08:002016-11-07T22:35:28.686-08:007-Eleven<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-pNon2GcDK4Y/WCFsvX1BfsI/AAAAAAAAHcY/PK0zf0is3rELem-H6tPwST0GOdMZRuTugCLcB/s1600/2211865279_e6ff170995_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-pNon2GcDK4Y/WCFsvX1BfsI/AAAAAAAAHcY/PK0zf0is3rELem-H6tPwST0GOdMZRuTugCLcB/s400/2211865279_e6ff170995_o.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><br />It never ceases to amaze me how prevalent 7-Eleven's are in this part of the world. (One <a href="https://www.quora.com/How-many-7-Eleven-stores-are-there-in-Bangkok" target="_blank">website</a> reports that their are over 8,000 in Thailand and over 3,600 in the Bangkok area alone.) It seems that if there ever was a reason to not see one in Thailand, it would have to be that you were walking around with your eyes shut. They dot the sides of every major road, provide a cool place to go at nearly every gas station, and may even be the only store with glass sliding doors in the whole town. I think I've even seen two in one town block (on the same side of the same street).<br /><br />The sight of them is so common and their services are so often used, that one Bible verse took on a deeper meaning the other day - especially when I thought that it would be good to memorize where the verse was found.<br /><br /><div><div style="text-align: center;">“If ye then, being evil, know how to give good gifts unto your children,&nbsp;</div><div style="text-align: center;">how much more shall your Father which is in heaven&nbsp;</div><div style="text-align: center;">give good things to them that ask him?” Matthew 7:11, KJV.</div><br />The blessings that our Father would give to us are even more plentiful than the 7-Eleven's in Thailand. They're on every street corner, available at every hour of the day and night. Yet how often we walk past them. We don't see them. We go through life wondering why we haven't received them.<br /><br />Perhaps it's not the lack of His blessings, but the lack of our walking into them.<br /><br /><div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div></div><br /><br /><br /></div>Hannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16874504214946352774noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4220903931150274885.post-40143187454301376652016-05-08T20:07:00.000-07:002016-05-08T20:07:25.709-07:00Substitute Teachers<div style="color: #454545; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal;"><br /></div><div style="color: #454545; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal;">Just shortly after school got out in the month of March, I had the privilege of attending some teacher training by a man from Australia and his wife who is Karen. It was a wonderful two weeks of learning how to better meet the needs of my students and help them to learn more easily. Even before the training started, my dad had mentioned that I should probably expect to share the things that I learned during the training. I kept that in mind as I took notes and listened carefully.&nbsp;</div><div style="color: #454545; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal; min-height: 14px;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QJLXWq7j5K8/Vy_9z1lIieI/AAAAAAAAHZ0/bn-gezQGAmME8N7Q7uef3XG78r3tqgPwQCK4B/s1600/IMG_9761.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QJLXWq7j5K8/Vy_9z1lIieI/AAAAAAAAHZ0/bn-gezQGAmME8N7Q7uef3XG78r3tqgPwQCK4B/s400/IMG_9761.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our group at the teacher training in March.</td></tr></tbody></table><div style="color: #454545; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal;"><br /></div><div style="color: #454545; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal;">Pretty soon those two weeks were over and another month and a half had gone by. It was time to get our teachers together and get ready for a new school year. Now my time had come. I had a whole week to share what I had learned. As I began going over my notes, I was so thankful for every thing that I had written down and the audio I had recorded, but over and over again I wished that Thara Nathan (the teacher from Australia) could be there to teach it in person. My goal was to share with them what he had taught me, yet I knew that I could never give them as much as he had given me.&nbsp;</div><div style="color: #454545; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal; min-height: 14px;"><br /></div><div style="color: #454545; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal;">Thara Nathan was a part of everything I taught. I could see or hear him in my mind as I shared. I often referred to him as I talked about things or had the class do an activity. As much as possible, I did the training just like he did. A couple of times I mentioned how much I hope he will be able to come and teach them in person next year. The only reason that I was able to do the teacher training was because of the time that I had spent learning from him. I was just a substitute teacher.&nbsp;</div><div style="color: #454545; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal; min-height: 14px;"><br /></div><div style="color: #454545; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal;">This experience reminds me of our work as Christians. When we learn of Christ, our Father tells us that we should prepare to teach others what we have learned. Often when we keep this in mind, it motivates us to study more carefully. As we prepare to share, we will often feel incapable of teaching as well as Christ did, but if we keep Him in our thoughts and encourage others to learn directly from Him, Jesus will be there. We don’t have to wait for Him to come back from another country. He is simply waiting for us to invite Him.&nbsp;</div><div style="color: #454545; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal; min-height: 14px;"><br /></div><div style="color: #454545; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal;">So what if we spent more time learning directly from Him?&nbsp;</div><div style="color: #454545; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal; min-height: 14px;"><br /></div><div style="color: #454545; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal;">What if we realized that the only way to success is to follow His example?&nbsp;</div><div style="color: #454545; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal; min-height: 14px;"><br /></div><div style="color: #454545; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal;">What if the people we are trying to reach learned directly from Him instead of just from us?&nbsp;</div><div style="color: #454545; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal; min-height: 14px;"><br /></div><br /><div style="color: #454545; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal;">Remember, we’re only substitute teachers.&nbsp;</div><div style="color: #454545; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal;"><br /></div><div style="color: #454545; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal;"><br /></div>Hannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16874504214946352774noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4220903931150274885.post-71818071377387651492015-10-12T16:28:00.000-07:002015-10-12T16:28:29.351-07:00Dreams Given BackShe had a son. The most precious thing that she had ever possessed. He was a miracle--something others would never consider giving away. She had wept, her heart had been broken, she had done her best just to have this child. Yet she promised to give him away. She promised to give him back to the Giver.<br /><br />And now, when her heart has grown to love him more than life, she brings him to the door of the temple, and <i>leaves him there</i>. But that isn't the end. For the gift that she gave back to the Giver was made even more precious. What a mother could only dream for her son was the reality that God made of his life.<br /><div style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">(Based on 1 Samuel)</span></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-qcAxx8dIVlU/VhxBa1F-mEI/AAAAAAAAHYQ/DL_KugYSlhQ/s1600/open-hands.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-qcAxx8dIVlU/VhxBa1F-mEI/AAAAAAAAHYQ/DL_KugYSlhQ/s400/open-hands.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><br />She had a son. I have dreams. Sometimes they seem too precious to even <i>promise</i> to give them to God, not to mention actually&nbsp;<i>giving</i> them to Him. But I'm learning--though so slowly--that there is simply nothing worth holding back. My dreams are dreams, but a dream in His hands will not only become reality, it will be far better than my human imagination could contrive.Hannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16874504214946352774noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4220903931150274885.post-77589002188224817402015-09-05T04:58:00.001-07:002015-09-05T04:58:07.753-07:00That's My JesusThe sky, the hills, the trees all take on a blue tint as the first rays of daylight begin to pierce the darkness. The stillness is too beautiful to disturb with words. I walk in silence and ponder. . . .<br /><br />It doesn't matter if I slept peacefully from sunset to sunrise, if I was awake most of the night wondering when it would be over, or if the clouds are thick and endless, the light of morning always comes with no haste and with no delay. In all of the years of my life, never has there been a day when the sun came up later than it should have. And it certainly never has failed to come up. Even though I have been through a great variety of nights, I've never doubted that the sun would come up.<br /><br />Yet somehow I dare to doubt the Creator of the very thing that I don't doubt. I dare to think that He can't make my "to do" list happen; I dare to think that what I can't figure out He can't solve either; I dare to think that when I don't have any strength left, that there is nothing He can do to help me.<br /><br />But one thought of the past, and I realize how senseless my ways are. There is simply no reason to think that my Jesus would fail me now anymore than He has in the past. Not one time that I have given Him my broken little pieces has He failed to turn them into beauty. He has never failed to answer when I have called, never failed to let me see His beautiful face when I opened my eyes to see it. Never have His ways ended in anything less than the best.<br /><br />And my thoughts break into a smile because . . .<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><i>That's my Jesus</i>.&nbsp;</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-byXANJ3UYeM/VeqjyeEeOhI/AAAAAAAAHX0/QlVng2zafBg/s1600/DSCN0358.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-byXANJ3UYeM/VeqjyeEeOhI/AAAAAAAAHX0/QlVng2zafBg/s400/DSCN0358.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: right;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Photo Credit: Mom</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div>Hannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16874504214946352774noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4220903931150274885.post-83962195669302168182015-06-22T15:23:00.001-07:002015-06-22T15:23:27.360-07:00Before Their EyesWhen I have loved myself more than others, treated His children partially, followed my emotions instead of trusting His Word, and left Wisdom for the foolishness of this world, I stop and wonder . . .<br /><br />I wonder why a Father who knows my heart and all its selfishness and pride to a depth that I don't even comprehend would give me the responsibility of representing Perfection to a world that has seen enough counterfeits. Why consider me a useful instrument in His hands when I have so often done the opposite of His bidding? I'm humbled at His answer.<br /><br />“And the heathen shall know that I am the LORD, saith the Lord GOD, when I shall be sanctified in you before their eyes.” Ezekiel 36:23<br /><br />Not because His character is already perfected in me will the heathen believe, but because they are seeing His character <i>being</i> perfected in me as the same hands that want to remake their lives are transforming mine.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-MzpNu6AK8k4/VYiKpoRUgnI/AAAAAAAAHXE/6HDVqUL94dk/s1600/383-IMG_0962.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-MzpNu6AK8k4/VYiKpoRUgnI/AAAAAAAAHXE/6HDVqUL94dk/s400/383-IMG_0962.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />Hannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16874504214946352774noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4220903931150274885.post-73536285793116744832015-05-25T07:11:00.001-07:002015-05-25T07:15:45.497-07:00I didn't do it. <span style="font-family: -apple-system-font; font-size: 12px; line-height: 16px;">I’m nearly speechless. My mind is still struggling to believe it.&nbsp;</span><br /><div style="font-family: -apple-system-font; font-size: 12px; line-height: 16px;"><br /></div><div style="font-family: -apple-system-font; font-size: 12px; line-height: 16px;">The walls that have scarcely begun to be attacked aren’t holding up very well any more. My hands haven’t even touch the edges of those walls either, but the power of One that is invisible is moving the immovable.<br /><div><br /></div><div>Light is dawning; a heart is opening.&nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>The soul that it seemed perhaps even the most experienced couldn't touch is being changed by the hands of an unseen God.&nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-g7VuA2BBiUM/VWMtW4QnHYI/AAAAAAAAHWM/zqJPUHh_FW4/s1600/IMG_9915.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-g7VuA2BBiUM/VWMtW4QnHYI/AAAAAAAAHWM/zqJPUHh_FW4/s400/IMG_9915.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>I’ve never spent so much time on my knees before because I have never before longed to be in His presence more than anywhere else. There is simply nothing more wonderful that giving God’s promises back to Him and watching Him carry them out.&nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><h1 class="quoteText" style="color: #181818; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 14px; font-weight: normal; line-height: 18px; margin: 0px 0px 15px; padding: 0px;">“There is power in prayer. When men work, they work. but when men pray, God works.” -&nbsp;<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Angus Buchan</h1></div>Hannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16874504214946352774noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4220903931150274885.post-38485509303381960652015-05-08T04:43:00.002-07:002015-05-08T04:44:30.185-07:00Dream Land<div style="font-family: -apple-system-font; font-size: 12px; line-height: 16px;">There is a country that, to most of the world, seems like the land of all their dreams. There are beautiful houses, dozens of universities, breathtaking mountains, and plenty of other dazzling things to keep one constantly occupied. And though some of us who know the other side of that country may try to convince them that this country isn’t all dazzling, we often fail to make much of an impression of those who are caught up in a dream of a better land.&nbsp;</div><div style="font-family: -apple-system-font; font-size: 12px; line-height: 16px;"><br /></div><div style="font-family: -apple-system-font; font-size: 12px; line-height: 16px;">A dear friend of mine who used to be my student and is like a sister to me was one of those who for various reasons wanted to immigrate to the U.S.A. Her brother had gone couple of years ahead of her, and she planned to live with him and go to college.&nbsp;</div><div style="font-family: -apple-system-font; font-size: 12px; line-height: 16px;"><br /></div><div style="font-family: -apple-system-font; font-size: 12px; line-height: 16px;">Though I didn’t doubt that things weren’t all as wonderful as she had hoped, the first few phone calls that I had with her didn’t really reveal that. But as the time neared for us to visit her, she began to open up more. The prosperous lifestyle, the wonderful people, the outstanding education didn’t fall into her lap. Instead she was surrounded by people in much the same predicament as herself with little opportunity for a good job, not enough money to get a car, and just a very small understanding about how this culture works. Her coworkers and neighbors didn’t understand her lifestyle or treat her in very Christian ways at times. She was desperate to either go to a better place in the States or go back with us to Thailand.&nbsp;</div><div style="font-family: -apple-system-font; font-size: 12px; line-height: 16px;"><br /></div><div style="font-family: -apple-system-font; font-size: 12px; line-height: 16px;">Even though she didn’t exactly say it, the land of her dreams wasn’t the same in reality as it was in her dreams. The land that she left behind now looked like a wonderful place in comparison to her current location.&nbsp;</div><div style="font-family: -apple-system-font; font-size: 12px; line-height: 16px;"><br /></div><div style="font-family: -apple-system-font; font-size: 12px; line-height: 16px;">The good news is that God has a plan for her even in that “dream land.” He didn’t take over there for nothing, and I believe that she will gain many blessings as she allows Him to guide her.&nbsp;</div><div style="font-family: -apple-system-font; font-size: 12px; line-height: 16px;"><br /></div><div style="font-family: -apple-system-font; font-size: 12px; line-height: 16px;">But I wonder . . . How often do we dream of living in a better place, of getting a better job, or a better group of friends not realizing that, more often than not, God has already given us the very best that we could have. Have we stopped to ask God what His dreams are for us? Have we stopped to enjoy what He has already given us?</div><div style="font-family: -apple-system-font; font-size: 12px; line-height: 16px;"><br /></div><div style="font-family: -apple-system-font; font-size: 12px; line-height: 16px;">Have we missed the beauty of our reality while seeking to live in our dreams?</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-lo43srADung/VUygbivD1DI/AAAAAAAAHVc/yC5FaqivMsU/s1600/IMG_0105.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-lo43srADung/VUygbivD1DI/AAAAAAAAHVc/yC5FaqivMsU/s400/IMG_0105.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div><br /></div>Hannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16874504214946352774noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4220903931150274885.post-76473282352951103482015-04-22T05:21:00.001-07:002015-04-22T05:21:30.650-07:00Desires: when they're guaranteed to be granted. <div style="font-family: -apple-system-font; font-size: 12px; line-height: 16px;"><div style="font-family: Geneva; line-height: normal;">“Delight thyself also in the LORD; and he shall give thee the desires of thine heart.” Psalms 37:4</div></div><div style="font-family: -apple-system-font; font-size: 12px; line-height: 16px;"><br /></div><div style="font-family: -apple-system-font; font-size: 12px; line-height: 16px;">I suppose you’ve read it before, too. Perhaps you’ve even claimed this promise. And I can guess that if you’ve claimed it, you’ve probably experienced disappointment, too.&nbsp;</div><div style="font-family: -apple-system-font; font-size: 12px; line-height: 16px;"><br /></div><div style="font-family: -apple-system-font; font-size: 12px; line-height: 16px;">The truth is that every human heart has desires. It also wants to find a way to satisfy them. And there certainly are plenty of ways of “satisfying” the desires that humanity has.&nbsp;</div><div style="font-family: -apple-system-font; font-size: 12px; line-height: 16px;"><br /></div><div style="font-family: -apple-system-font; font-size: 12px; line-height: 16px;">But there’s a problem. As Christians, we know that most of those ways are contrary to the ways of our Lord. And perhaps the desire itself is completely opposite of His ways. At the very least, whether we are Christians or not, we find that the more we try to satisfy our desires, the less satisfied we are.&nbsp;</div><div style="font-family: -apple-system-font; font-size: 12px; line-height: 16px;"><br /></div><div style="font-family: -apple-system-font; font-size: 12px; line-height: 16px;">It’s an impossible situation — a heart being eaten away by desires that only grow in every attempt to satisfy them. Or is it?&nbsp;</div><div style="font-family: -apple-system-font; font-size: 12px; line-height: 16px;"><br /></div><div style="font-family: -apple-system-font; font-size: 12px; line-height: 16px;">That’s what I love about this promise. For the most impossible situation that humanity faces — a heart that wars against every good thing — there is a most amazing solution.&nbsp;</div><div style="font-family: -apple-system-font; font-size: 12px; line-height: 16px;"><br /></div><div style="font-family: -apple-system-font; font-size: 12px; line-height: 16px;">When we delight ourselves in the Lord — seek His pleasure in place of our own, do His work and speak His words, cheerfully give Him the time that belongs to Him, in short, when we seek to satisfy His desires first — a miracle happens.&nbsp;</div><div style="font-family: -apple-system-font; font-size: 12px; line-height: 16px;"><br /></div><div style="font-family: -apple-system-font; font-size: 12px; line-height: 16px;">You see, were God to grant us everything that our selfish human hearts think will satisfy us, we would be worse than unsatisfied. We would be broken and drained of everything that we did have. We would destroy ourselves. That’s why God asks us choose His ways, choose to let Him into every little detail of our lives. But why? Why choose to do that when it isn't what we desire?</div><div style="font-family: -apple-system-font; font-size: 12px; line-height: 16px;"><br /></div><div style="font-family: -apple-system-font; font-size: 12px; line-height: 16px;">This amazing God that we have can take away those desires that we are powerless to change and put desires in our hearts that can be satisfied, more than satisfied. He isn't just capable of satisfying our desires. He is also capable of giving us desires that can actually be satisfied.&nbsp;</div><div style="font-family: -apple-system-font; font-size: 12px; line-height: 16px;"><br /></div><div style="font-family: -apple-system-font; font-size: 12px; line-height: 16px;">But that's not all. He takes our broken, thirsty souls and does more than fill them. He makes them fountains that overflow with the same thing that satisfies their desires that others might be satisfied as well.&nbsp;</div><div style="font-family: -apple-system-font; font-size: 12px; line-height: 16px;"><br /></div><div style="font-family: -apple-system-font; font-size: 12px; line-height: 16px;">Because the only way to be satisfied is to satisfy.&nbsp;</div><div style="font-family: -apple-system-font; font-size: 12px; line-height: 16px;"><br /></div><div style="font-family: -apple-system-font; font-size: 12px; line-height: 16px;"><div style="font-family: Geneva; line-height: normal;">“Jesus answered and said unto her, Whosoever drinketh of this water shall thirst again: But whosoever drinketh of the water that I shall give him shall never thirst; but the water that I shall give him shall be in him a well of water springing up into everlasting life.” John 4:13, 14</div></div><div style="font-family: -apple-system-font; font-size: 12px; line-height: 16px;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pVWLfW3SeGs/VTeR2u3t-sI/AAAAAAAAHQw/TzC000_j3nc/s1600/IMG_9709.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pVWLfW3SeGs/VTeR2u3t-sI/AAAAAAAAHQw/TzC000_j3nc/s1600/IMG_9709.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></div><div style="font-family: -apple-system-font; font-size: 12px; line-height: 16px;"><br /></div>Hannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16874504214946352774noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4220903931150274885.post-54989176070190612452015-04-15T04:19:00.002-07:002015-04-15T04:19:14.499-07:00Am Living = Will GiveThe record of countless thousands who gave their lives for the name of our Redeemer stirs my heart to do the same -- to end my life in the depths of some dungeon or in the scorching heat of the desert. But there is a common thing often less spoken of that took place in the lives of those heroes before their noted act -- they <i>lived</i> their lives for Christ.<br /><br />Though<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;">&nbsp;my human heart looks for another way, the first can’t happen without the second. The first seems more heroic and a thing to dream of for the future (for I certainly wouldn't take my own life), &nbsp;but the second appeals less to my pride and is something that won't happen if I only dream of it.&nbsp;</span></span><br /><div><br /></div><div>The fact simply can't be ignored -- what we don't choose to live, we will never be able to give.&nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>And the opposite is also true -- that which we do live, whether good or evil, we will also give.&nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div><b>So what do you want to give?&nbsp;</b></div><div><b><br /></b></div><div><b>Or should I ask, <i>what are you living?&nbsp;</i></b></div><div><b><br /></b></div><div><b>It starts&nbsp;today.<i>&nbsp;</i></b></div><div><b><i><br /></i></b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_c4zOmire1g/VS5Ie9D4qnI/AAAAAAAAHQY/TQlKKrE4y4o/s1600/IMG_9723.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_c4zOmire1g/VS5Ie9D4qnI/AAAAAAAAHQY/TQlKKrE4y4o/s1600/IMG_9723.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></div><div><b><i><br /></i></b></div><div><br /></div>Hannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16874504214946352774noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4220903931150274885.post-45017522370506076692015-04-08T16:06:00.003-07:002015-04-08T16:06:26.025-07:00Rejoice<span style="font-family: -apple-system-font; line-height: 16px;">When thousands of miles once again separate you from some of the dearest on earth to you?</span><br /><div style="font-family: -apple-system-font; line-height: 16px;"><br /></div><div style="font-family: -apple-system-font; line-height: 16px;">Yes.&nbsp;</div><div style="font-family: -apple-system-font; line-height: 16px;"><br /></div><div style="font-family: -apple-system-font; line-height: 16px;">When your friend has been nearly heartbroken and going through physical pain for over a week all because of a misunderstanding that you had no clue about?&nbsp;</div><div style="font-family: -apple-system-font; line-height: 16px;"><br /></div><div style="font-family: -apple-system-font; line-height: 16px;">Yes.&nbsp;</div><div style="font-family: -apple-system-font; line-height: 16px;"><br /></div><div style="font-family: -apple-system-font; line-height: 16px;">When your own heart breaks in realizing that you’ve failed in living the life that your Father’s children so desperately need to see?&nbsp;</div><div style="font-family: -apple-system-font; line-height: 16px;"><br /></div><div style="font-family: -apple-system-font; line-height: 16px;">Yes.&nbsp;</div><div style="font-family: -apple-system-font; line-height: 16px;"><br /></div><div style="font-family: -apple-system-font; line-height: 16px;">When a soul that you’ve cried for and plead with more times than you know still won’t accept the greatest Gift that you could offer them?&nbsp;</div><div style="font-family: -apple-system-font; line-height: 16px;"><br /></div><div style="font-family: -apple-system-font; line-height: 16px;">Yes.&nbsp;</div><div style="font-family: -apple-system-font; line-height: 16px;"><br /></div><div style="font-family: -apple-system-font; line-height: 16px;">But why rejoice?</div><div style="font-family: -apple-system-font; line-height: 16px;"><br /></div><div style="font-family: -apple-system-font; line-height: 16px;">Because in separation, in pain, in brokenness, in helplessness, we come to better know the heart of Love and to love Him in return because you cannot know Love without loving back.* And to be filled with Love is to be healed, made whole, made invincible, and bound with unbreakable cords to the Dearest of all.&nbsp;</div><div style="font-family: -apple-system-font; line-height: 16px;"><br /></div><div style="font-family: -apple-system-font; line-height: 16px;">And why not rejoice when you have the privilege of being&nbsp;<i>filled</i>&nbsp;with joy?**<br /><br /></div><div style="font-family: -apple-system-font; line-height: 16px; text-align: right;"><div style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">(*1 John 4:8, **Psalm 16:11)</span></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-11nhVlcKK2A/VSWyfrysE-I/AAAAAAAAHPE/OiqKNMgEVaQ/s1600/IMG_9497.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-11nhVlcKK2A/VSWyfrysE-I/AAAAAAAAHPE/OiqKNMgEVaQ/s1600/IMG_9497.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></div><div style="font-family: -apple-system-font; font-size: 12px; line-height: 16px;"><br />(And lest I be misunderstood, I do not mean that we should rejoice that these things happen in this world but that it is our privilege to rejoice rather than giving them the opportunity to destroy our happiness forever as our enemy desires.)<br /><br /></div>Hannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16874504214946352774noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4220903931150274885.post-4143471302246550982014-12-07T07:58:00.002-08:002014-12-07T07:58:37.852-08:00He's worth losing sleep for. I pause to remember once again that I am <i>very tired. </i>It's been my reality all day--and it's been a rough day, too. How are you supposed to take and make phone calls every five minutes while trying to eat lunch and prepare to go to town? Never mind you had just woken up from a nap that was not nearly as long as would have been necessary to re-energize you. Through much of it, I kept getting this thought that I was being "tested."<i> Oh . . . I'm supposed to not fall apart through all of this. God will give me the strength, and I'll feel just great in the end. :)</i> <br /><br />Now I'm sitting in a hotel room waiting for the rest of our group to get back from shopping. I was planning on getting some good use out of the internet here, but nothing seems too exciting when you feel like sleeping more than anything else. I know that a major reason for my sleepiness is getting to bed late, but I also know that my getting up early to have time with God has cut my nights short on the other end. I can't tell you how many times I have been tempted and given in to temptation to sleep instead of get up for my quiet time, but there's nothing that gives me a better start to my day than that quiet time with God. How's this supposed to work?'<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9SlChzfApuo/VIR4JkrsPJI/AAAAAAAAHKM/NzizTeJVOMs/s1600/hands_making_a_heart_in_the_sunset-wallpaper-640x480.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9SlChzfApuo/VIR4JkrsPJI/AAAAAAAAHKM/NzizTeJVOMs/s1600/hands_making_a_heart_in_the_sunset-wallpaper-640x480.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></div><br />Suddenly new understanding begins to dawn. A girl in love with a young man will often miss sleep just to spend time with him. She will may try to get the sleep she needs, but I would suppose that it usually isn't very hard to choose between sleeping and spending time with that special person. That kind of a relationship can make your whole day better even if you don't get enough sleep.<br /><br />And I'm finding it to be so true when in a relationship with Him. When I realize that spending time with Him gives me more peace and joy than anything else (even all the sleep I could want), it is my joy to spend time with Him even when I don't feel well rested. And I've even seen how I was even more sleepy during the week that I slept in every morning than during the week that I got up early to have quiet time every morning. His promise <i>is</i> true . . .<br /><br />“Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and <b>I will give you rest</b>.” <span style="font-size: x-small;">Matthew 11:28</span><br /><br /><i>He's worth losing sleep for.</i><br /><br /><br />Hannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16874504214946352774noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4220903931150274885.post-25800719284782406062014-08-05T07:07:00.002-07:002014-08-05T07:07:45.455-07:00At Home in a Strange LandGreen fields of rice, tapioca, and corn attract my gaze. I'm crowded onto the back of a local taxi and getting wet from rain while coming home with a patient from the hospital. It's nice to just sit and look at things as we go by. <br /><br />In the silence, I remember that this is a time to remember. It was this time of year that I arrived in this part of the world--clueless, tired, unprepared for reality. I can still remember how it felt to walk into worship for the first time, to get into our house and not have any water, to have sticky skin all the time, to wear clothes that seemed to never dry, to sleep on something harder than my bed at home, to eat rice every day for every meal, to be surrounded by people that stare at me and think I'm different<i>, </i>to long for things back home<i>--to feel like a stranger in a strange land</i>. <br /><br />And here I am in nearly the same situation. I walk into the same chapel, have sticky skin, wear clothes that take days to dry, sleep on something hard as the floor, eat rice every single meal, live among the same people, am separated from the same dear friends.<br /><br />The difference? It's what I'm used to. <i>I feel at home--in a strange land. </i><br /><br />And I wonder . . . Should not we all be feeling out of place, longing to be with our dear One, like strangers in a strange land?<br /><br /><i><b>Or are we at home in a strange land?</b></i><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-z_l5OSoLpQ8/U-Dj_Gk2RrI/AAAAAAAAHHM/M5SCGz7HPUQ/s1600/IMG_8806.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-z_l5OSoLpQ8/U-Dj_Gk2RrI/AAAAAAAAHHM/M5SCGz7HPUQ/s1600/IMG_8806.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></div><br />Hannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16874504214946352774noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4220903931150274885.post-20444606757196000422014-07-28T01:06:00.000-07:002014-07-28T01:06:26.987-07:00Three Years Ago : A Beginning. An End.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-RYe0GcdNtyg/U9X-9jihy3I/AAAAAAAAHG8/O7EeLgu85p4/s1600/Blog01.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-RYe0GcdNtyg/U9X-9jihy3I/AAAAAAAAHG8/O7EeLgu85p4/s1600/Blog01.jpg" /></a></div><br />Three years since I stepped onto Thai soil for the first time.<br /><br />Three years since I started a new (in <i>many </i>ways) way of life. <br /><br />- Cool bucket showers in cool weather, and warmer bucket showers in hot weather instead of hot showers in <i>cold </i>weather and cold (if desired) showers in hot (kind of) weather. <br /><br />- Wearing a long sleeve shirt all day in 80* weather instead of always wearing short sleeves as soon as the thermometer hit 70*.<br /><br />- Feeling like I belong here instead of being a stranger. <br /><br />- Eating rice like it's suppose to be eaten (in our minds at least): 2+ times a day. Every day.<br /><br />- Almost forgetting what it's like to wear sneakers or anything similar. <br /><br />Those each are attached to memories--good and bad--but they're not the things that really make me sit and ponder what has happened. I'm overwhelmed with emotions of nearly every kind when I think of the bigger, deeper things. <br /><br />- Learning that when I feel the uttermost helplessness, I am the closest to Strength.<br /><br />- Being filled by giving what I didn't have because all good things come from One above. <br /><br />- Discovering that the only thing that pulls my heart toward the other side of the ocean (other than breathtaking mountains) is the same thing that has bound my heart with this place--people.<br /><br />And let me tell you that each one of those last three things was n.o.t. e.a.s.y. Had you offered me a different road when I was in the heat of battle I probably would have taken it. But from where I stand now, I can thank God that He didn't answer my prayer to send someone else to take my place.<br />There were times I was more miserable than I can remember ever being in America. But instead of pulling me out of what was making me miserable, He is making me a conqueror of it.&nbsp; <br /><br />It's about the end of looking at self and the beginning of seeing through the eyes of Jesus and loving with His love. Hannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16874504214946352774noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4220903931150274885.post-3115356372678625032014-07-10T15:24:00.001-07:002014-07-10T15:24:08.606-07:00Nothing for Them Is EnoughThe poor,<br />the sick,<br />the heathen,<br />the ignorant,<br />the heart-broken,<br />your family,<br />all the good things that could be done for humanity,<br />and all the demands that come with doing them . . .<br /><br />Yes. They will always be there. Always. People will always say that you should be doing something about them. You will always feel like there is more than you can meet the needs of.<br /><br />That's when it's time to give them nothing. I'm serious. Don't give them any of yourself. Rather pour it ought at the feet of Jesus. People will tell you it's a waste. That the needs are so great that you should give at least a bit of yourself to meet them.<br /><br />But don't.<br /><br />For as she gave her all to One, she gave the answer to every need in eternity.<br /><br />And so may we. <br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Uu7ykEtDt1Y/UhDbZeEDt1I/AAAAAAAAGpk/JopioHYadi0/s1600/IMG_7250.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Uu7ykEtDt1Y/UhDbZeEDt1I/AAAAAAAAGpk/JopioHYadi0/s1600/IMG_7250.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">(These thoughts were taken from Mark 14:1-9)</span></div>Hannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16874504214946352774noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4220903931150274885.post-32871484768515638332014-07-06T15:15:00.001-07:002014-07-06T15:15:40.491-07:00Empowering ExampleI look out into the dark night that now covers campus. It seems to match so much of what I've seen and heard of recently--brokenness, sickness, distress, emptiness--the worst part being that it seems I've done more to cause it than to dispel it.&nbsp; <br /><br />Line after line, my mind soaks in the picture of what it really means to live. Purity, simplicity, a connection with God that is deeper and more constant than I've ever experienced, the most trustworthy friend in a broken world--all wrapped up in one Life. The life of Love--and He did it without one person who understood His heart. <br /><br />My heart cries to be able to live that life. One voice says that it's too high a standard to reach. But the other voice . . .&nbsp;<br /><br />"I didn't do it in your place--I did it so you could do the same." (1 Peter 2:21)<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-XjvEyvz7b_k/U7nJ5Ns656I/AAAAAAAAHFk/mbNCPNanVsY/s1600/IMG_7784.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-XjvEyvz7b_k/U7nJ5Ns656I/AAAAAAAAHFk/mbNCPNanVsY/s1600/IMG_7784.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></div><br />Hannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16874504214946352774noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4220903931150274885.post-75321318334923885432014-04-25T23:05:00.000-07:002014-04-25T23:05:17.876-07:00Old Promise: New JoyIt's been a hot day. It's also been a long week. But as I finally had the opportunity to get some rest after church, I realized that there was a better way of spending my time than sleeping.&nbsp; And I silently read . . .<br /><br /><span style="font-family: &quot;Courier New&quot;,Courier,monospace;">“Teach me, O LORD, the way of thy statutes; and I shall keep it unto the end. Give me understanding, and I shall keep thy law; yea, I shall observe it with my whole heart.” Psalms 119:33, 34 </span><br /><br />Though my brain seems half asleep, I pause in wonder of the truth. If only blind human beings understood the beauty and love of God's law, not one would say there is a better way to live. But we can't change our own hearts. We so strongly desire that which we know is not best.<br /><br />And then, I smile. I suddenly realize that something has happened. The desire that I had for so long struggled to set aside was <i>gone</i>. It's place wasn't left empty though. The God who is the giver of every good thing had filled it's place with a desire that I am not ashamed of. <br /><br />Truly He is a God who not only gives us what we desire but also changes our desires so that we will want what will really fill the longing in our hearts.<br /><br /><span style="font-family: &quot;Courier New&quot;,Courier,monospace;">“Delight thyself also in the LORD; and he shall give thee the desires of thine heart. Commit thy way unto the LORD; trust also in him; and he shall bring it to pass.” Psalms 37:4, 5</span><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LTWKSNDl-AM/U1tMIhV_veI/AAAAAAAAHDg/eCjz_nYG-DQ/s1600/IMG_8645-small.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LTWKSNDl-AM/U1tMIhV_veI/AAAAAAAAHDg/eCjz_nYG-DQ/s1600/IMG_8645-small.jpg" height="287" width="400" /></a></div><br />Hannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16874504214946352774noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4220903931150274885.post-15943188452358998222014-04-24T21:50:00.002-07:002014-04-24T21:50:40.837-07:00Paper Giants Are Real<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-uKj-uRWN7xU/U1npgIOKgDI/AAAAAAAAHDI/AehQlA6_7lQ/s1600/IMG_8664-small.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-uKj-uRWN7xU/U1npgIOKgDI/AAAAAAAAHDI/AehQlA6_7lQ/s1600/IMG_8664-small.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></div><br /><br />Evening worship had finished but a few minutes before, and I couldn't remember what I had planned to do after worship. There were the memory cards to put music on, and there were things to put together for a trip. But there was something more important. I couldn't shake it. But memory continued to fail me. <br /><br />Then . . . oh. No. That was, uh . . .<br /><br />Now I remembered very clearly what I had felt I needed to do after worship. The conviction was strong, but, <i>but</i> . . .<br /><br /><i>Would I say the right thing? <br /><br />Would I be able to actually help her?<br /><br />Would I actually be a blessing and encouragement when I knew so little of what she was going through?<br /><br />What if she didn't want to visit?<br /><br />Could I pray with her without it being awkward? </i><br /><br />Memory cards were filling with music as I tried to forget my nervousness. I wanted to escape the fears. <br /><br />Finally I had to deliver the memory cards. The problem was that this visit was next on my list. But I made a decision--I wouldn't return home without at least trying. <br /><br />On the way to deliver the memory cards my thoughts turned heavenward. "Lord, I may not be able to say anything grand, but <i>please</i>, use me."<br /><br />First agenda item off my list, I turned around to take care of the next one. As I neared the house in the darkness, I saw someone go in. <i>Oh, no. Now she probably won't want to open up since other people are around.</i>&nbsp;&nbsp; I didn't stop though. And pretty soon I was so close to the house that the other person in the house saw me. I greeted her, and before I could say another word she called out, "_______, Tharamu Hannah is here to see you." <i>Wow, that was easy. I didn't even have to say why I was here. But how did she know that that's why I came?&nbsp;&nbsp; </i><br /><br />*****<br />Nearly and hour later I climbed the hill back home. I was nearly speechless, too. It was as if she was just waiting for me to come. I'd hardly had to say anything. She talked about this and that--some things personal, some things general. And the prayer at the end--you'd think she had been hoping that I would do just that. <br /><br />Then as if a voice said it in my ears, the lesson hit me. The things I feared outside the doorway were far greater than what I saw once I stepped over the threshold. Paper giants are real--imagined pictures of reality, if you will. Only they are no more reality than my picture is me. It's far better to fear missing out on what God has on the other side of the door than to fear paper giants. Hannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16874504214946352774noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4220903931150274885.post-51556473977469235322014-04-07T06:29:00.001-07:002014-04-07T06:35:23.768-07:00Communion<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WG3a9uFjfKM/U0Kh1qO9c1I/AAAAAAAAHA8/6zaUUZwq_9g/s1600/DSCN9818.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WG3a9uFjfKM/U0Kh1qO9c1I/AAAAAAAAHA8/6zaUUZwq_9g/s1600/DSCN9818.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>To eat His flesh--to make His word the very sustenance by which we exist.<br /><br />To drink His cup--to make the suffering and pain of our fellow man a part of our very being. <br /><i><br /></i><i>The very things this world says we can ignore are the keys to the deepest communion that man can have with God and fellow man. </i><br /><br />It's no wonder it's called <span style="font-family: &quot;Courier New&quot;,Courier,monospace;">communion</span><i>.&nbsp;</i> <br /><br /><br /><h3><span style="font-weight: bold;">Let Your Heart Be Broken</span></h3>Let your heart be broken for a world in need:<br />Feed the mouths that hunger,<br />Soothe the wounds that bleed.<br />Give the cup of water, and the loaf of bread.<br />Be the hands of Jesus, serving in his stead.<br /><br />Here on earth applying principles of love.<br />Visible expression, God still rules above.<br />Living illustration of the living word,<br />To the minds of all who've never seen or heard.<br /><br />Blest to be a blessing, privileged to care,<br />Challenged be the need, apparent everywhere.<br />Where mankind is wanting, fill the vacant place.<br />Be the means through which<br />The Lord reveals His grace.<br /><br />Add to your believing deeds that prove it true,<br />Knowing Christ as Savior, Make Him Master too.<br />Follow in His footsteps, go where he has trod;<br />In the worlds great trouble risk yourself for God.<br /><br />Let your heart be tender and your vision clear;<br />See mankind as God sees, serve Him far and near.<br />Let your heart be broken by a brother's pain;<br />Share your rich resources, give and give again.<br /><span style="font-style: italic;"><br />Words &amp; music - Bryan Jeffery Leech</span><br /><br /><div style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Thoughts taken from Luke 22:14-20; Matthew 4:4; 26:42</span></div>Hannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16874504214946352774noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4220903931150274885.post-91645607574663238382014-03-21T20:50:00.000-07:002014-03-22T08:10:56.518-07:00It's a Sacrifice<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Cnkdq18UtTs/Uy0IOlg1rPI/AAAAAAAAG-w/8UyhTfxkQpY/s1600/IMG_2362.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Cnkdq18UtTs/Uy0IOlg1rPI/AAAAAAAAG-w/8UyhTfxkQpY/s1600/IMG_2362.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></div><br /><br />They say it's a sacrifice. <br /><br />I hear it in prayers and conversations from rich and poor, friends and strangers. <br /><br />Just last evening I heard it again, and I had to wonder why . . .<br /><br />Is it because we get gifts of love instead of a paycheck each month? <br /><br />Is it because our lives are so filled with beautiful people that we don't have time for ourselves? <br /><br />Is it because we are so constantly being drained of all the spiritual life that we have that we are driven to ask for more and better with increasing frequency? <br /><br />Is it because we are pushed to discover the thrill of doing something outside of our comfort zones and perceived capabilities instead of living in mundane normality?<br /><br />Or is it because we are left to feel so helpless at times that we don't have to question that our God is real and alive and working on our behalf? <br /><br />Is it because we get to see people's lives of filth and hopelessness changed into purity and overwhelming joy instead of our lawn being the only thing that we see improve all year?<br /><br />Perhaps it is because we live a weight-loss lifestyle instead of having to go on special diets that cost them money instead of saving money.<br /><br />Maybe it's because, while giving, we get the satisfaction of seeing thankfulness that cannot be spoken on the faces of those who have never had instead of hearing a mere "thank you" from those who have received a hundred times. <br /><br /><b>If <i>that's</i> what they call sacrifice, it's a wonderful exchange. </b><br /><b><br /></b>Yet it is a sacrifice. Our human natures don't easily give up what we've grown accustomed to having. I myself can still look back and remember the struggle of giving up my fears, my space, my things. I <i>didn't </i>come naturally. <br /><br />But I'm thankful. . .<br /><br />For the closer we come to having nothing, the closer we come to having All. <br /><br />Hannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16874504214946352774noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4220903931150274885.post-15740155883118645452014-02-01T06:10:00.001-08:002014-02-01T06:19:48.672-08:00Fight for Life<b>January 23</b><br />[9:15 pm]<br />Wrapped in a blanket and on my knees, I ponder the latest events. <br /><br />* * * *<br /><br />She was one of many who had been sick. We had been praying and laboring for the improvement of all of them. For a while it seemed like an endless string of one or two getting better and one or two going down each day. There had been over ten to care for each day for a while. <br /><br />There was something different about her though. We didn't know exactly how many days she had been sick, but in just a few hours she had gone from laughing and playing with her friends to being nearly dead. We were no longer praying for relief from fever or some other discomfort; we were pleading for her life. Doctors hadn't given much hope of her ever being normal again--if she revived. Any moment could be the end. <br /><br />* * * *<br /><br />Now I share the chapel floor with others who are pleading for her life. We don't know what the outcome will be, but she's still alive. We're simple human beings capable of little. So we pray. We search the Word. <br /><br />My eyes skim over the words of stories of that hand whose touch healed thousands, that voice that granted life to a dying body, the One who had spent not just hours but nights pleading for lives. <br /><br />I contemplate my life in comparison. Here I am spending some of my night in prayer for a life that is on the edge. Yes, we're concerned about her physical life. But what about her salvation? Can we do anything about it now? <br /><br />And I'm struck--with shame. How many times have I seen a life on the edge, a heart ready to stop trying to pump life through a dying body. How many nights have I spent in prayer for them? How many times have we banded together to plead for <i>their</i> lives?<br /><br />[9:30 - 3:30] <br />By taking turns, we pray through the night. <br /><br />[3:30] <br />I'm roused from my slumber by a voice. It doesn't take long for me to be sure that it's not good news that we're getting either. She's not only having to be aided for every breath, her heart is giving up. We gather as a group and plead once more. It's hard to say much, so we go back to our places and fall to our knees. <br /><br /><b>January 24 - 30</b><br />Life for us continues somewhat normally while two hours away her life lingers. We wait. We keep praying.<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-QpFT56UPIPM/Uuz-uIlluMI/AAAAAAAAG7o/9uAYHkPbzko/s1600/NawMuMu1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-QpFT56UPIPM/Uuz-uIlluMI/AAAAAAAAG7o/9uAYHkPbzko/s1600/NawMuMu1.jpg" height="203" width="320" /></a></div><br /><b>January 31 </b><br />A life gone. A lesson imprinted for ever. <br /><br /><span style="font-family: &quot;Courier New&quot;,Courier,monospace;">Regardless of the anticipated end--fight for life.</span>Hannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16874504214946352774noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4220903931150274885.post-12268142890698503872014-01-26T14:13:00.001-08:002014-01-26T14:13:26.858-08:00Just a Touch<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-lgF1Vl2oY7s/UotyK6jCm1I/AAAAAAAAG3k/3pgWrkmjBgY/s1600/04-IMG_7685.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-lgF1Vl2oY7s/UotyK6jCm1I/AAAAAAAAG3k/3pgWrkmjBgY/s1600/04-IMG_7685.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-lgF1Vl2oY7s/UotyK6jCm1I/AAAAAAAAG3k/3pgWrkmjBgY/s1600/04-IMG_7685.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><br />On the edge of a slowly moving crowd, sits a woman. A woman for whom everything had failed. All of the things this world said should work failed. Even her previous attempts to get to Jesus had failed. <br /><br />She might have concluded that she had no hope of ever getting to talk to Jesus and ask for healing, and therefore there was no hope. But, no. <br /><br /><span style="font-family: &quot;Courier New&quot;,Courier,monospace;">If I may but touch his garment, I shall be whole.* </span><br /><br />Sure it was less than ideal. Just a touch. All her strength, all her courage for one little touch. But there was no time to consider that it might not be enough. It was the most she could do. <br /><br />And there the one who gave all she had, though it seemed far too small in her need so great, found that all is enough. Not what seems reasonable, not what the world says is enough. <br /><br /><i>Just a touch--all she could do.&nbsp;</i><br /><br /><div style="text-align: right;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span style="align: right; font-size: x-small;">*(Matthew 9:21)</span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><br /></div>Hannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16874504214946352774noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4220903931150274885.post-67907877766681925732013-11-17T15:08:00.002-08:002013-11-17T15:08:31.693-08:00Filled on Empty<br />Sometimes it's a chilly evening praying under a boundless sky of stars. Sometimes it's while walking home from a full morning of teaching. Sometimes it's as my feet walk the oh so familiar road as I my mind tries to process it all. The question comes again . . .&nbsp; <br /><span id="goog_1563608283"></span><span id="goog_1563608284"></span><br />Are they really happy?<br />When they look like they are so happy and satisfied with their way of living, are they really happy? <br />Is it possible that someone could actually be happy outside of a whole-heart commitment to Christ? <br /><br />* * * * * <br />My heart almost pauses before the next beat. My stomach begins to tighten as I realize that someone that has greeted me with a smile nearly every other time I can remember is now upset at me for no apparent reason. His life would give most outsiders the impression that he's thoroughly enjoying life. He just bubbles over. But what I see now is not what he's making up, it's what he really is inside. . . .<br /><br />Broken. Unsatisfied. Empty. <br /><br />* * * * * <br />Two weeks pass. Not yet have I seen any sign to indicate that his void has been filled. <br /><br />Then I ask how his father, who had recently been treated for some health issues, is doing. His faces lights up with joy that I've never before seen in those eyes. "He's so much better. Thank you so much." <br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-uA4gZfSECmU/UolMOsg9fgI/AAAAAAAAGus/PM7WMCp3Mbg/s1600/IMG_7139.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-uA4gZfSECmU/UolMOsg9fgI/AAAAAAAAGus/PM7WMCp3Mbg/s400/IMG_7139.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><br />The next moment he's gone. But I'm left with a lesson for ever. Joy is not found in being filled. Joy is found in filling -- other people's lives. It's not in filling the empty pockets in our hearts, but in emptying the filled pockets. <br /><br />What are you running on?<br /><br />Empty or full?Hannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16874504214946352774noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4220903931150274885.post-80365923658609320642013-09-05T02:32:00.000-07:002013-09-05T02:34:19.979-07:00My Life With a Reason<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZJ46nRpmZZ0/UhDXLyNZqGI/AAAAAAAAGoA/eMib-FuLtMY/s1600/IMG_7160.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZJ46nRpmZZ0/UhDXLyNZqGI/AAAAAAAAGoA/eMib-FuLtMY/s320/IMG_7160.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />Typical question from a friend: So how are you doing?<br /><br />Me: You mean what was my day like? or do you just want to know everything? <br /><br />Perhaps you are one of the ones that would like to know everything, but I'll give you the run down of today. <br /><span style="font-family: &quot;Courier New&quot;,Courier,monospace;"><br />I Imagined in my sleep that it was time to get up, but when I sat up and looked at my watch it was only 11:30 pm.<br /><br />Woke up around 1:30 because someone was walking around campus playing a recorder. Woke up a couple more times within the next hour for the same reason.<br /><br />That person finally stopped at the house I was sleeping in to talk with the person in the other room. I realized that it was one of the boys on the kitchen crew that couldn't sleep. <br /><br />Tried to sleep a little more, but got up around 2:30 to have some quiet time and get ready for the day. <br /><br />Spent some time chatting with a couple other girls while trying to not laugh about how people would have reacted to the recorder thing if this was America. <br /><br />Left for the kitchen around 3:00. Rinsed rice, chopped veggies, poked sticks in the fires under the rice pots, pealed potatoes for a while, and was finally convinced to go rest for a bit.<br /><br />Couldn't sleep, so I went up to the house to see Dad before he left at 5:30. Spent some time going over the notes he gave me for doing his chapel talk, then helped in the kitchen for a bit.<br /><br />Realized that worship was getting out so I changed into more appropriate attire and took off for exercises with the boys' exercise group. Managed to keep up with their fast-paced stretches but decided I could take the running part a bit easier. <br /><br />Took a nice cold bath, grabbed my backpack for classes, and ran down to help serve breakfast. Nearly burned my fingers trying to eat such hot rice and beans. <br /><br />Had fun getting around and helping other people get around in the down pour just before chapel. Got to tell another part of the story that Dad's been sharing for chapel. <br /><br />Taught one English class and one math class (instead of the usual two) for grades nine and ten. Had a class period off. Skipped off to teach English for grades seven and eight. <br /><br />Between classes, found out that Dad will be gone overnight so I'll probably be filling in for His worships this evening and tomorrow morning. <br /><br />Dropped off my bag at the house I stayed at last night and went to the kitchen for lunch. Enjoyed a good meal of rice, pumpkin, potatoes, and tomatoes with chilies. Got teased about eating with my fingers since people in America wouldn't like it.&nbsp; <br /><br />Had a few moments at home before going to computer class. Tried to not fall asleep while supervising computer class and writing lesson plans for tomorrow. <br /><br />Dismissed computer class just in time to watch wild winds blowing around a good rain storm. </span><br /><span style="font-family: &quot;Courier New&quot;,Courier,monospace;"><br />Had a few minutes to read from my Bible and then drifted off to sleep in my hammock, but, as usual, was awakened a few minutes later when some students came to our house for various reasons.&nbsp;</span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family: &quot;Courier New&quot;,Courier,monospace;">And my day isn't over yet . . .</span><br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-CgpuHU9gwZo/UhE3DHcjJkI/AAAAAAAAGqo/r5A-Ki3NnAo/s1600/IMG_7173.JPG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-CgpuHU9gwZo/UhE3DHcjJkI/AAAAAAAAGqo/r5A-Ki3NnAo/s320/IMG_7173.JPG" width="320" /></a>Now it would be dishonest to say that this accurately represents my daily life. Each day is unique--but the same. Each day asks me the same question: Why do I do this? <br /><br />If you were the one asking the question, the best answer you could get would be by experiencing it for yourself. <br /><br />When you've seen a young, goof-off boy in fifth grade become a seventh-grader that is passionate about the gospel and sharing it . . .<br /><br />When you've struggled to know what to do with a talkative boy in tenth grade who is older than you without treating him like a little kid and seen the look of appreciation in his eyes when he thanked you for taking him aside and talking to him . . .<br /><br />When you've realized that the little girl you gave a hug to is three times happier just because you gave her a moment of affection . . .<br /><br />When you've looked into the eyes of a soul you know is in the middle of a battle for life and seen light beginning to shine in their eyes . . .<br /><br />When you've looked into the face of a young girl, whom makes most people think is doing just fine, and realized that she's broken and miserable . . .<br /><br />When you've felt the fingers of Jesus molding ugly clay into something that can bless humanity . . .<br /><br /><i>You'll understand. </i><br /><br />Hannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16874504214946352774noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4220903931150274885.post-35929467434494859982013-08-18T06:45:00.004-07:002013-08-18T06:49:49.355-07:00With All My Heart<span style="font-family: &quot;Courier New&quot;,Courier,monospace;">Trust in the Lord. . .</span><br /><br /><i>Pause. </i><br /><br /><span style="font-family: &quot;Courier New&quot;,Courier,monospace;">With all thine heart.</span><br /><br /><i><span style="font-family: inherit;">Oh. . .</span></i><br /><br /><i> <span style="font-family: &quot;Courier New&quot;,Courier,monospace;">And lean not unto thine own understanding.</span></i><br /><br /><i>Ouch.</i><br /><br /><span style="font-family: &quot;Courier New&quot;,Courier,monospace;">In all thy ways acknowledge Him.</span><br /><br /><i>Everything? No give.</i><br /><br /><span style="font-family: &quot;Courier New&quot;,Courier,monospace;">And He shall direct thy paths.</span> <br /><br /><i>Perfect.</i><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-f963GX0xlXU/UhDPmLJiD4I/AAAAAAAAGmU/mG1SxoUEnrg/s1600/IMG_7215.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-f963GX0xlXU/UhDPmLJiD4I/AAAAAAAAGmU/mG1SxoUEnrg/s400/IMG_7215.JPG" width="400" /></a></i></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><i>* * * * * * * * *</i></div><br />The words repeated themselves in my mind countless times over the next few hours. Faces, memories pressed themselves upon my mind as I felt the burden of their thirst--their thirst for something satisfying.<br /><br />But then. . .<i> </i><br /><i><br /></i><i>Trust.</i> When I feel like the situation is so urgent?<br /><br /><i>In the Lord.</i> When a soul in weighing in the balances, and I want to choose the outcome?<br /><br /><i>With all thine heart.</i> When I feel like you're holding me back?&nbsp; <br /><br /><i>And lean not unto thine own understanding.</i> When being quiet and letting go is going against what I think would be good?<br /><br /><b><i>Trust?&nbsp; </i></b><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-eAUX8ylh0xk/UhDQu6YxepI/AAAAAAAAGmg/Q3kX3FOC7YM/s1600/IMG_7135.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-eAUX8ylh0xk/UhDQu6YxepI/AAAAAAAAGmg/Q3kX3FOC7YM/s400/IMG_7135.JPG" width="300" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br />"For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, saith the LORD.<br /><br />For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways, and my thoughts than your thoughts.<br /><br />For as the rain cometh down, and the snow from heaven, and returneth not thither, but watereth the earth, and maketh it bring forth and bud, that it may give seed to the sower, and bread to the eater:<br /><br />So shall my word be that goeth forth out of my mouth: it shall not return unto me void, but it shall accomplish that which I please, and it shall prosper in the thing whereto I sent it.<br /><br />For ye shall go out with joy, and be led forth with peace: the mountains and the hills shall break forth before you into singing, and all the trees of the field shall clap their hands.<br /><br />Instead of the thorn shall come up the fir tree, and instead of the brier shall come up the myrtle tree: and it shall be to the LORD for a name, for an everlasting sign that shall not be cut off."<br /><span style="font-size: x-small;">(Isaiah 55:8-13)</span><br /><br />Just to forget my grand plans . . .<br />To simply be His instrument . . .<br />To. trust. Him.<br /><br />Hannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16874504214946352774noreply@blogger.com0